Back in 1996 a musical comedy with the intriguing title of “I Love You, You’re Perfect Now Change” opened in New York. It had rave reviews and became the second longest running off-Broadway show.

For years it continued to be performed in venues across America and was translated into 17 languages.

Maybe that’s because the show resonated with many people who recognized the truth of its premise.

When we fall in love with someone, the veil of romanticism does make us think our beloved is perfect, or, at least perfect for us.

But with the passage of a little time (sometimes very little) we realize they are not so perfect after all.

Then what?

Then we try to change them.

When I saw that musical comedy I scoffed at the notion of trying to change someone. I never thought that would be successful.

At the time, six years after my husband died, I started dating David. I thought it was strange to be talking about dating at my age.

The night we became engaged we went dancing with friends. When the DJ asked the newly engaged couple to stand, the audience was probably expecting to see a young couple. Instead, there we were, bravely beaming as we embarked on a new phase of life.

The main reason why I agreed to marry David was because he was perfect. He certainly seemed perfect for me.

Like all those in love, I relished everything about him - his voice, his laugh, his love of the outdoors.

And, like all those in love, I put a positive spin on everything about David.

I remember how I bragged to my friends about his neatness. When I opened the silverware drawer in his kitchen I marveled at how everything was organized. All the silverware was an exact half-inch apart, as if he measured it with a ruler.

I later learned he is neatly organized to the point of obsessive-compulsive.

I didn’t see it that way until after we were married.

When I cook, I like to have all the ingredients in front of me. David puts things away, often before I use it.

This week I made penne and meatballs in the crockpot. When I lifted the lid to add the sweet basil, the lid had disappeared. He washed it and put it away.

When I leave the house for the day, he reorganizes the pantry cupboard and cabinets. And he changes the location of food every time, meaning I have to hunt for everything.

Because we don’t “sweat the small stuff,” we cope well with each other’s idiosyncrasies.

He never tries to change me, claiming because he likes me just the way I am. I never try to change him for only one reason.

I know it’s impossible to change anyone. I realize the only one I can change is myself.

Eating dinner together is important to me. It’s a time to relax together and share our thoughts.

When David decided he needs to eat little or nothing for dinner, we had a conflict of values.

Where did that leave me?

I respected the fact that he does better physically by not eating an evening meal. But that often left me alone, scrambling to find a fast alternative to what I had planned for dinner.

I solved it by changing the only person I could change. Me!

I told David I had to change my approach to our evening meal. I said I would cook homemade meals for me and freeze them for when he didn’t want to eat.

That prompted him to offer his own changes so we could better compromise.

That’s what marriage is all about, right? Compromise works. Trying to change someone doesn’t.

After years of trial and error, I learned it works best if I acknowledge I need to change. That opens David up to being willing to do the same.

What never worked for me is starting a conversation with “We need to talk.”

Frankly, I don’t see anything wrong with saying that, but I learned those words put David on guard and makes him defensive before we even start.

For him, those words translate into HE has a problem. When I approach it as “How can we solve this situation,” I get a more willing partner.

Psychologist Dr. John Gottman has what he calls a research-based approach to relationships.

The renowned psychologist stresses the difference between complaining without blame versus criticizing someone.

“Criticism attacks the core of a person,” he says, “while voicing a complaint focuses on a specific behavior.”

I learned I have to be careful when voicing a problem. It’s important to stress it’s our problem, not just his.

The psychologist also cautioned we need to focus only on the issue at hand. Too many couples, he claims, detour off a discussion by bringing up past hurts.

I’m the first to admit it’s not easy but it gets easier if both partners have the same goal of solving the problem.

One couple I know think they are perfect for each other. When friends mention his constant drinking, she says she’s sure they can work it out after they are married because they love each other.

Maybe that’s why we say love is blind.

Falling in love is easy.

Keeping that love secure is the hard part.

Contact Pattie Mihalik at newsgirl@comcast.net.